


You Should Know I'll Be There For You

by superfandomqueen



Category: The Boys (TV 2019)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Anxious Hughie Campbell, Bisexual Hughie Campbell, Claustrophobic Hughie Campbell, Copious Amounts of Fluff, Cute, Depressed Hughie Campbell, Fake/pretend relationships, Fluff, Hughie Campbell Has PTSD - Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Implied/Referenced Bullying, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Suicide attempt, Kissing, M/M, Omnisexual Frenchie, Omnisexual The Frenchman, Panic Attacks, Polysexual Frenchie, Polysexual The Frenchman, Queer Hughie Campbell, fake date, hand holding, hiding in a closet, many kisses, non-canon compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:07:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28362144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/superfandomqueen/pseuds/superfandomqueen
Summary: Hughie has been alone and no ones first choice. Frenchie finds a friend and falls hard.
Relationships: Hughie Campbell & The Frenchman, Hughie Campbell/Frenchie, Hughie Campbell/The Frenchman
Comments: 8
Kudos: 26





	You Should Know I'll Be There For You

**Author's Note:**

> I've hit two enablers for this ship and they were actively reading along as I wrote it. I am so gone for this ship. They are just too fucking cute!

1\.    
  


“You two cunts go that way. MM and me’ll go the other way,” Butcher ordered as they came to a split, the two marks going in opposite directions.

“Ya sure about letting this fucker off on his own?” MM said, jerking his thumb towards Frenchie without looking at him.

“Hughie’ll be with him. They’ll be just fine. Time’s awasting.” Butcher didn’t wait for an answer, heading off. Hughie shifted uncomfortably, he still didn’t get the animosity between the two men.

MM cussed, shooting Frenchie a dirty look. “Don’t fuck this up.”

“Don’t fuck up either,” Frenchie snarled back, glaring at MM even as he merged into the crowd after Butcher. “Have you ever tailed anyone?”

“No,” Hughie admitted, rubbing his sweaty palms against his jeans. Frenchie nodded and started walking. “Hey! Wait up!”

Hughie caught up in a few strides, nauseated with nerves. His fingers tapping a familiar tempo, a Billy Joel song, into his leg. Frenchie elbowed Hughie, resulting in a yelp.

“ _ Calme toi _ ,” Frenchie hissed. “You look like you’re gonna jump out of your hide at any moment.”

“In case you hadn’t noticed, I don’t  _ do this _ !” Hughie hissed back, his free hand jumping to his shoulder and rubbed the tense muscle. “And relax is not something I normally do. Like... ever.”

“Try it out for this time?” Frenchie’s arm brushed his own every step, sending tingles up his arm. Hughie tried to practice the “relaxing” breath that he picked up back in high school in attempts to keep his anxiety under control. It worked, more or less.

Hughie could see the mark turn and look at a shop window, he couldn’t remember their name for the life of him. There was something odd about the way they had stopped and turned. As a frown made its way onto his face Hughie felt a pull on his t-shirt.

He looked down in time to see Frenchie leaning up. There wasn’t a chance to ask anything before Frenchie’s lips met his. Hughie could’ve sworn his brain flatlined, error codes up the ying yang. Of course, that was if he could’ve thought. All he really could process was Frenchie’s surprisingly soft lips that taste like watermelon chapstick.

Before he knew it, the sensation was gone. Hughie stood stock still, his mind spinning out of control. He completely missed Frenchie starting back in the direction they had been going. Hughie was too busy staring where Frenchie had just been.Allez!” Frenchie said as he grabbed ahold of Hughie’s hand and dragged him forward with him. “We have to focus!”

Hughie could not focus on anything. “I… uh… what was that about?”

“What are you talking about?” Frenchie asked, not looking back for a second. Hughie looked at the mark.

“The kiss? And the mark guy, person, is up by the ice cream shop,” Hughie said, his eyes flicking down to the grip Frenchie had on his hand. When was the last time he held hands with anyone?

Probably not since Robin.

The thought twisted a knife in his chest. It had been days. Okay, maybe… just maybe Robin had a point about him being little touch starved.

“They were looking for a tail. So, I kept them from seeing our faces.” Frenchie stood on his tippy toes trying to get a better look. “Putain… How can you see them so easily?”

“Five inches makes a difference.” Hughie’s mind hit the gutter as the words tumbled out of his mouth, his face going on a high burner. He shook his head, this was not the time nor the place, particularly not to read into nothing.

“Is that so?” Frenchie grinned mischievously at him, clearly seeing the opportunity for a sexual innuendo.

“Let’s just… focus on our job,” Hughie said, not daring to move his hand, enjoying the feeling of holding hands too much, and kept an eye on the mark. “They are turning into an alleyway just on the other side of a bookshop.”

“You are something else,” Frenchie murmured. Hughie didn’t respond, he didn’t think he was supposed to hear that.

2.

Hughie quoted the movie as the characters spoke the lines. He got lucky while Frenchie working on something, and while Butcher and MM were out doing something, to get a hold of the remote and found  _ Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone _ playing. Frenchie seemed to be alternating between what he was doing and watching with Hughie.

He heard the door close followed by Butcher’s stomping steps and MM’s much softer footsteps. Hughie paid no mind to them as he watched Harry nearly fall to his death in his first Quidditch match.

Feeling something hit the side of his head, Hughie jerked and shot Butcher a dirty look as he picked up the USB from where it fell. “What is this?”

“Just picked it up.” Butcher shrugged off his huge coat, Hughie just blankly watched. Irked that his watch of Harry Potter was interrupted.

“And?” Hughie finally asked when Butcher didn’t elaborate.

“Well, you’re the techy one, lad. Get at looking at it!” 

“Where did this come from?” Hughie asked, making no move to plug it into a computer.

“Vought.” It was MM who answered, at least giving a straight answer about it.

“How did--” Hughie put his hand up, stopping himself. “You know what, I don’t want to know. Anyway, I’m not going to do it right now.”

“Why the fuck not?” Butcher snapped, scowling at Hughie. As if  _ he _ was the moron here.

“You are kidding, right?” Hughie asked. Just to check. 

“No, I'm fucking tap dancing. Get on with it!”

Hughie sighed, shaking his head. “You got a USB with Vought crap on it, there is no way there isn’t a security system set as soon as someone tries to hack into it to pin down their location.” There was a stunned silence. “What? Don’t you know this? It’s quite a simple programing system, it’s just the details that are pesky to get worked out so that it works without issues. Anyway, we can just go to the mall tomorrow and I’ll use one of the tech shops laptops to hack it.”

The three men stared openly at Hughie. Hughie flicked his eyes away, briefly looking at Frenchie and then his lips before looking back at the group as a whole. Pushing away any and every thought about the kiss they shared.

“What?” Hughie rubbed his fingers against his palm.

“We haven’t done any recon. We don’t know the area--” Butcher started.

“I know the downtown mall inside and out. All of the entrances, exits, side hallways, and elevators are. Where all of the security cameras are. All of that good stuff.” They gaped at him. “What?”

“How do you know this?” Frenchie asked, looking at him like he would like to peel back more layers of Hughie. Like he’s studying him, ready to explore him. 

“What? Do you think all I know is some tech stuff and supe fan shit?” Hughie asked. All three looked away at the question. “I know things!” Hughie rolled his eyes. “Seriously though. I spent four years in college studying technology, robotics, and programming.”

“The going to mall to hack into the USB?” MM looked at Hughie pointedly.

“Robin was really into spy movies. We had watched a lot of spy movies.” Hughied shrugged. “Robin, Anthony, and me were a fucking trio growing up. Spy movies were a big thing for us. Studying things like one would for a spy movie.” When none of them said anything, Hughie just scoffed, “Supes were not my whole life, Jesus.”

“Never said they were.”

“You just thought it,” Hughie shot back. None of them had anything to respond to that.

  
  


~~~

  
  


The next day, just after lunch, Hughie and Frenchie sat in a regular, nearly identical car to multiple others in the parking lot. They were waiting for the go ahead from Butcher and MM, who were whipping through and casing out the joint.

“Were you not comfortable with the kiss?” 

Hughie jumped at the sudden question breaking the tense silence that he had been ignoring. He hadn’t expected Frenchie to bring it up. In all honesty, he thought Frenchie had forgotten about it already. Unlike him, the kiss plagued his memory more often than not.

It wasn’t until Frenchie looked at him did Hughie remember to respond. “Uh, no, that’s. It’s not a problem.” Frenchie didn’t seem to believe him, Hughie took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Really. It’s not a problem. I’m just more taken back by it. Robin and I… we didn’t kiss until after we even started dating.”

The problem was that he couldn’t stop thinking about the kiss. He couldn’t stop thinking about kissing Frenchie again. If only to feel his lips again. To be an active participant in the kiss.

“Ah.”

Hughie didn’t know how to put it into words. It didn’t feel like he could just  _ ask _ to kiss Frenchie again. Like it was just a test if he wasn’t as straight as he originally thought. Hughie didn’t need to test that, his most definitely not platonic feelings for Anthony back in middle school proved that much. But… just.

He just did not know how to take it. To wrap his head around it. Just the whole actively desiring to kiss Frenchie. Another man.

“You like it slow then.” There was a fucking smirk in the chemist’s voice. 

“I don’t put out on the first date.” The words slipped out without a thought. Hughie had to resist the urge to beat his head on the steering wheel.

Even without looking, Hughie could vividly picture the wicked, devious smirk forming on Frenchie’s lips.  _ His goddamn lips again! Brain! Knock it off! We do not need to think about that! Especially not right now! _

“When do you put it out? What are your preferences? Vanilla? Or…” Hughie felt heat rising up his neck. 

Hughie muttered just loud enough to hear, “Jesus, at least wine and dine me first.”

The Frenchman chuckled, his eyes roaming over Hughie. “I bet you are into something a little bit more… risqué. Voyeurism? Biting? Hard enough to make you--”

“How the fuck did we get onto this topic?” Hughie groaned, his face now burning with near overwhelming embarrassment. 

Frenchie suggestively waggled, straight up  _ waggled _ his eyebrow, with a goddamn cocky ass smirk on his face. Hughie knew his eyes obviously stuck on Frenchie’s lips for a second too long.

_ I could kiss that fucking smirk off. Jesus, Hughie, now is not the time. Shut up.  _ Hughie bit the inside of his cheek and forced himself to look out at the parking lot. Rolling his shoulders back, Hughie said about as calmly as he could, “I don’t discuss these things with friends. I’ve only really talked about it with my partners.”

“Then perhaps I can be one.” Frenchie’s heated stare burned on Hughie’s skin.

Hughie’s head jerked up as the words registered. Far too many images of different possibilities of the previous topic mixed with Frenchie words. “Wait was that--”

Frenchie’s phone went off, cutting off his words. Unbothered, Frenchie answered the phone, “Hello.” There was a pause. “Mmm hmm.” Another. “Alright. We are going.”

He hung up and opened the door. Hughie followed the suit, asking, “They are finally done casing the joint?”

“Yes. We best get to it then.”

  
  


~~~

  
  


Hughie felt nostalgic as he walked into one of the multiple tech shops of the downtown mall. Browsing for a few minutes, taking his time looking over the laptops, before settling on one to use. Frenchie was relaxed as can be, a vast difference to the tension Hughie felt in his own body.

He was actually kind of jealous of Frenchie’s calm in situations like this. Hughie felt his own stomach twisting and threatening to throw up his breakfast with every step.

A part of him argued it was just another part of the nostalgia. How Robin, Anthony, and Hughie reenacted certain scenes from movies growing up. Especially spy movies. Those were the favorite.  _ Charlie’s Angels _ in particular, followed by  _ Totally Spies _ .

With a timer set on his phone, the tone set to sound like a ringtone. Slipping the USB in casually, Hughie plunked around on the laptop. He nodded and hummed to himself, Frenchie peered next to his shoulder at what he was doing. Hughie allowed his hands to go the usual quick movements that came from practice. A smile tugged his lips as he remembered just how little it actually took to get him into seriously learning how to program computers, followed closely by hacking. Robin and Anthony gave him the confidence to go for it, Hughie couldn’t deny how much he enjoyed the skill.

A person came over, Frenchie turned to partially hide the laptop’s screen from the person. Hughie let himself have a brief glance, all while keeping the image of the placing of the keys in his mind, told him that it was one of the employees. He was aware of the words Frenchie spoke to the employee, but they didn’t sink in.

As the timer went off, Hughie got the files spread out in front of him. Quickly, Hughie set his second USB in and copied all of the files. Uttering an apology, he pulled out the phone and set it to his ear, watching as the files copied and the status bar of the ping.

Tension running through his body, the ping had been going for five minutes. Calculations of how long it would take for a Vought employee to show spun in his head. They didn’t have much time. He was certain that they were already pushing it.

The status of the files copy was full, Hughie ejected the USBs and turned to Frenchie. The employee’s face caught his eye and he immediately ducked his head into Frenchie’s neck. Inhaling deeply, Hughie cursed himself for two things.

One, a deep breath of Frenchie’s scent was a bad idea. Two, he knew that employee and that employee knew him. The last thing he needed was to be recognized right after he hacked into a USB that belonged to one huge, dangerous as fuck company named Vought.

Hughie declared all of his brain cells dead as his drug his teeth over Frenchie’s pulse, causing the Frenchman to jump, and growled out loud enough for the employee to hear, “You’re mine.”

The words were so not him, they felt so fucking possessive in his mouth. It was disconcerting and uncomfortable at the same time.

Hughie slipped his arms around Frenchie, enjoying the feeling of the smaller man in his arms, and ran his lips up Frenchie’s neck. Pausing by Frenchie’s ear, he whispered in Frenchie’s ear. The chemist slipped his hand onto Hughie’s thigh.

“I guess this is not what we are looking for at this time, perhaps we’ll find it next time.” Hughie started pulling Frenchie back and steered them towards the door, his face still tucked into Frenchie’s neck.

Once they were out of the shop, Hughie slid his arm around Frenchie’s waist, careful to have a softer sort of smile, and strode quickly through the mall to a nearby hallway. A glance out of the corner of the eye revealed the employee speaking with people who were undoubtedly Vought employees. The Vought and the tech employee split, but the tech employee didn’t go back in.

She headed their way.

“Fuck,” Hughie muttered.

“What is it?” Frenchie flexed his hand, Hughie loosened his tight grip.

“Um, I kind of know that specific employee.” 

“An ex?”

Hughie shot him a disbelieving look. “Do I really look like someone who dates around much?”

Frenchie shrugged. “Not really.”

“Precisely. No, she’s not an ex of mine. She’s a  _ friend’s _ ex.”  _ Robin’s ex-girlfriend _ . Specifically from freshman year of college. Robin never disclosed with him what made them break up. “And she has a  _ very _ good memory. Especially for faces.”

“That’s why you were hiding your face in my neck.” God damn him anyway, sounding so fucking amused.

“Pretty much.” Hughie dutifully ignored the heat rising up his neck into his face. “She’s still following us, isn’t she?”

The Frenchman hummed an affirmative. Hughie carefully inhaled and exhaled, making sure to look over the mall for possible options of how to get out of the line of sight. Biting his tongue to keep himself from cursing again. The space was far too open, making it harder to hide when she was focused in on them.

Hughie pictured the layout of the floor they were on and where they were in relation. There would be a hallway in twenty meters.

They couldn’t get there fast enough. Hughie walked like he was going to go right by it, even as Frenchie tugged towards it. Resulting in a small tug-a-war and Hughie hissing to turn only as they are just about to pass it.

Hughie tried to relax his grip on Frenchie’s waist as they reached and swung into the hallway. Catching a glimpse of Robin’s ex, Janice, Hughie gave into what he’d been thinking about far too much for the last week. He pushed Frenchie against the wall and kissed him.

It was even better than last time. It did help that Hughie wasn’t error-coding during the kiss and got to participate.

Frenchie kissed back with just as much enthusiasm, his fingers sliding into Hughie’s hair. The chemist’s nails bit into his scalp.  _ I did not know I liked that. _ Hughie pushed the thought away as he returned the light scratch on his nails over Frenchie’s buzzcut.

It wasn’t bad. Wasn’t bad at all. Far too good, if Hughie were to actually admit it.

Hughie thought faintly that he was enjoying it too much. Not that he paid any mind to the thought as he slid one of his legs between Frenchie’s. Especially not when he got Frenchie hooking his leg over his hip. The hand that was resting on Frenchie’s waist slid lower, hiking him up further.

There was a faint gasp and hurried footsteps retreating from them.

With great reluctance, Hughie pulled back, gasping in breath. His eyes lingered on the chemist’s red bruised lips, tempting him to dive back in. Licking his lips, he could taste a faint vanilla chapstick. Frenchie did like those different kinds of food chapstick.

Hughie breathed deeply, brushing his thumb over Frenchie’s jawline. Frenchie’s fingers twisted in his hair and started pulling closer.

There was a shrill sound.

Hughie flinched away, blinking with a dazed mind as he watched Frenchie’s hand after it left his head and reached into his pocket. He watched Frenchie’s lips move without registering a word that left his mouth.

He forced himself to put space between him and the Frenchman. Hughie wanted to slap himself. Sating the initial curiosity only birthed more. His mind offered up images and ideas of possibilities.

Even more dangerous than the second time around.

Hughie gulped as Frenchie hung up. “That was Butcher. Wondering what the fuck happened to us.”

“I guess it’s time to get back to base then.” Hughie tried to convince himself it was too dangerous, too much of a bad idea even for him to get involved with Frenchie. No matter what other parts of him were saying.

“Indeed.” As they fell into step, heads low, and slipped out the mall’s exit, Frenchie said, “You’re getting better at kissing.”

Hughie choked.

  
  


3.

He could hear his heart pounding. Hughie looked over his shoulder, he could easily see the guards looking for them. He quickly snapped his head forward, ducking his head. The chemist’s grip was tight on his wrist.

Sounds blurred together turning into a roaring symphony. Hughie struggled to breath as the sounds crushed in on him.

A car door opened only a few meters in front of them. Beside it was a man turning to a person behind him.

The world came back into focus. Hughie inhaled deeply, feeling his chest expand.

Hughie stopped and grabbed onto Frenchie’s arm with his free hand. The Frenchman frowned at him as he turned to look at the semi-hacker. “I’m going to carry you.”

“Quoi?” Frenchie asked right as Hughie swept him into a bridal carry. The chemist made almost a squawk.

“Act like you’re not feeling so good,” Hughie instructed, focusing on the hair brained idea he just got. Thankfully, thank-fucking-fully, Frenchie went limp in his arms and let his head loll to the side.

With quick, hurried steps to the car, Hughie let his breath quicken and shake. “Hey! Can — can I use your car?! Please! I need it!”

Hughie felt his stomach twist up as it came out, he could hear a sliver of desperation in his voice. He’d need more to convince them. The man and a woman watched him with confusion.

“I need to get my—” Hughie’s brain scrambled for a suitable word, a word that would add the level of concern and worry and desperation. “— fiancé to the hospital.” He could imagine Frenchie’s reaction, but made himself focus. Frenchie made an odd noise, his head hitting Hughie’s chest. “I don’t know what’s wrong. He’s just started acting strange.”

Tears rimmed his eyes as he spoke, half the words had a slight tremor underneath. The woman began to frown as the man stepped away from the car. “Take it, we can get a taxi.”

“Thank you! Thank you so much!” Hughie cried, he gently set Frenchie down in the backseat. The chemist briefly raised his eyebrows and then crinkled them like he was in pain, inhaling unsteadily. Pulling back out of the backseat, thanking them profusely in a shaky voice Hughie hurried around the car.

Sliding into the driver’s seat, he started the car. He sent another thankful look to the two, both had matching worried looks. Careful to keep the worry and freaked look still on his face as he pulled out into traffic. Hughie saw the guards for a second as they went by him.

He heard the Frenchman make noise in the backseat, moving around. “Stay down.”

There was a large sigh, but no more wiggling around could be heard. For a few minutes. After Hughie turned onto the street that would take them closer to the hospital to keep up the bluff, the chemist moved again.

This time, Frenchie climbed over the seat into the passenger seat and seatbelted himself in. “Where did that come from?”

Hughie glanced at his passenger and shrugged. “A lot of  _ Leverage _ ?”

Frenchie shot him a confused look. “What is that? Leverage? Like blackmail? That kind?”

“The show is called  _ Leverage _ . Okay, I didn’t just watch spy movies and superhero movies growing up.  _ Leverage _ is basically a Robin Hood crew in modern times. It’s really funny to watch. The team dynamics are great.” Hughie turned once more, making them six blocks away from the place they had just been.

“You pick up on such interesting skills and ideas,” Frenchie said, a smile in his voice. He sounded almost…  _ impressed _ ?

Hughie didn’t answer, just pulled out of the traffic and did a pull off park. Putting it into park, Hughie pressed himself back against the seat and breathed in deeply. He could not believe that he actually pulled that off.

Before he could react he had a face full of Frenchie. Half sprawled in Hughie’s lap, the Frenchman cupped his face. Nipping his lip, forcing out a gasp from the string bean, Frenchie kissed Hughie with fervor. Hughie slipped his arms around the chemist and his hands gripped Frenchie’s shirt. 

“That—“ Frenchie kissed Hughie. “Was—“ another kiss “Magnifique!”

Hughie felt pleasure and pride flush through him. He kissed Frenchie, nipping lightly back. Frenchie grinned into the kiss, making it difficult.

There was a sharp ringing noise. Hughie jumped at the noise, only sparing a glance at it as Feenchie reeled him back in. The ringing eventually stopped, Hughie fully absorbed by Frenchie.

Some part of him was yelling at him for being an idiot and getting to absorbed in Frenchie. It wasn’t going to end well. He ignored it in favour of making out with Frenchie.

Then the phone started again. As the car horn started. Both Frenchie and Hughie startled, laughing as the realization that Frenchie honked the horn.

Now, Hughie recognized as MM’s ringtone. Reluctantly pulling away, he answered it, a breathy laugh still wheezing out of him.

“What the fuck happened?” MM demanded, Hughie could’ve sworn there was worry in his voice but he didn’t want to push it with the big man.

“Ummm, some crap? We’re on our way back,” Hughie answered. Frenchie slid back to the passenger, a slight wince as he rubbed his hip, but a smile on his face either way.

“Are you and Frenchie good?” Hughi smiled, it was nice to know that MM actually cared a little. Butcher sure as fuck didn’t.

“Yeah, we’re good. Be there soon.” Hughie turned off the car.

“Good. Don’t waste any fucking time. Did you get it?”

Hughie patted his pocket and affirmed it as he felt the USB. As he opened the door, and walked around to the sidewalk, he caught Frenchie’s smile. He felt a smile spread over his own face.

4.

Frenchie was commenting on something food related, Hughie had no idea what he was going on about so he just nodded along. As Frenchie set another bag of veggies into the cart.

Hughie stiffened as he heard his name called, slowly turning around, and forcing a smile onto his face. "Hey. I'm pretty good. How are you?"

“Hughie? Hughie Campbell! How are you doing, man!?” Ian went in for a hug, which Hughie reluctantly reciprocated. Tension thrumming through his body.

“Pretty good! But things have been fucking weird since Robin passed. We miss you, man. I know Anthony does!”

Hughie clenched his hands behind his back. "Oh yeah. Life has definitely been crazy. I've been super busy with things lately. Yeah, I saw Anthony recently actually. We had a good catch up."

“Enough about me dude! What about you? What have you been up to lately?” Ian said, talking over Hughie. Just like usual. Ian finally took note of Frenchie, but immediately dismissed his presence. “You know what they always say the best way to get over someone is to -“ Ian winked here.

"Just life stuff, looking at different jobs. Ya know, the usual shit." Hughie felt his nails digging in his palm, biting his tongue briefly to stop himself from punching the jackass. Ian Stanson never did fucking grow up did he. "As I said, I saw Anthony the other day. We had a great time catching up."

Hughie saw Ian's brief look at Frenchie. A ridiculous, stupid idea started to form in his mind. He was truly spending too much time around the guys.

“That’s good on ya Hughie, you always did hate that job huh? I don’t know if he said but he was worried - I was worried that without some chick to hype you up you’d kick the bucket.” He patted Hughie’s shoulder. “But hey man, if you ever need a wingman I’m here.”

Hughie never considered himself a violent person, but punching Ian was getting more and more tempting. And the fucker didn't even know he had nearly kicked the bucket when he had a solid support system. Swallowing, Hughie looked at Frenchie, his fake smile becoming softer and more genuine, begging Frenchie to play along with him. "No worries, but I don't need a wingman."

Frenchie tilted his head, curiosity flickered through his eyes followed by understanding. "Hughie does not need any help with that."

"Really? You are terrible at getting the girl," Ian said, his eyes boring into Hughie.

Hughie slipped his arm around Frenchie's waist, damn thankful that Frenchie didn't move away and expose the huge fucking lie he was spewing. "Because I got the guy."

Hughie brushed a finger under Frenchie's chin lifting it, slowly leaning in. Carefully giving Frenchie enough time to move away. He didn't move away, in fact he moved closer, his own arm slipping around Hughie and pulling him closer. Pressing their lips together, Frenchie ran a hand through Hughie's hair as he kissed back. Hughie felt a shiver go through him and pressed closer, ignoring the part of him yelling at him that this felt way too good.

There was a long silence on Ian’s side as he watched Hughie kiss a random guy. “Wow, how long has this been going on - how long have you been gay?” He whispered the last part like it was something taboo.

Hughie reluctantly pulled back, giving Ian an unimpressed look. "I'm not gay. I'm queer. I like people for their personality, not their gender."

Ian just stared at him.

Rolling his eyes, Hughie looked back at Frenchie. "It was good seeing you and all, but my darling and I have more shopping to do. Right, honey? Or are we finally done?"

Frenchie's eyes widened at the nicknames for a millisecond and then smirked at Hughie's question. "Not quite yet, Mon Cher."

Hughie swallowed at the nickname, but outwardly sighed. "We really must be on our way then, especially if you are wanting to make that delicious pasta dish for dinner again. Friends are coming over for dinner."

Hughie slipped his hand into Frenchie’s, they left Ian without a word to him. Hughie tried to keep the tension in him from squeezing the life out of Frenchie’s hand. Stopping a few aisles down, Hughie kept close to Frenchie as Frenchie did the shopping.

The Frenchman picked out the different spices he wanted for whatever he was making when they would get back to the place. Hughie really did enjoy his cooking for what he knew of it. “Do you think he’s still watching?”

“Fuck yeah he is,” Hughie said, shaking his head. “God, what a fucking asshole. He acts all nice and chill, but really he hadn't changed a bit since high school.”

“You knew him in high school?” Frenchie added another spice and looked back at the list in his hand.

“ _ Unfortunately _ . He was one of the  _ worst _ of the fucking homophobic assholes in that school.” Hughie sighed, leaning on the shopping cart. “I didn’t think anything could be worse than high school. It was a constant sort of special hell. It was like a small town, you couldn’t do anything without everyone knowing.”

There was a small laugh from Frenchie as he turned to face Hughie. “And you just rubbed it in his face that you are not straight.” He leaned up, his breath tickling Hughie’s ear. The lamp post inhaled shakily as Frenchie said just loud enough for him to hear in a breathy voice, “Your kissing is getting better.”

Hughie felt heat travel up his neck into his face. “Is- is that so?”

The damn man who prompted the reaction, cool as a cucumber was setting items into the cart again. Instead of answering Hughie’s rhetorical question, he point blank asked one of his own, “Were you being serious about being queer?”

Only partly thrown by the sudden change of topic, Hughie rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah. It’s something I figured out a few months ago and was still getting used to it. It was hard to wrap my head around it after the heavy homophobia in my high school. This is actually the first time I'm saying it out loud."

Frenchie looked up and smiled at him, nodding. "I am proud of you becoming comfortable with this part of you."

Hughie smiled back, warmth mixed with relief spreading through his chest. "Thanks. That's really nice to hear. Uh, so what about you?"

There was a shrug. "I never put a label to it. Just almost everyone is physically attractive and some people just have more attractive personalities."

“Huh,” Hughie said, giving a small nod. “Yeah, I guess I just never thought about it like that.”

The talented cook of the two started down the aisle, Hughie pushing the cart behind him. “If you ever need a fake boyfriend again…”

Holding his breath, internally he slapped himself for it, as he waited for Frenchie to continue. Unfortunately, or fortunately depending on the view, Frenchie smirked and peered at him through his eyelashes. Somehow Frenchie did things that made Hughie’s heart leap. 

"Would you be the one to give me such an offer?" Hughie replied smoothly, daring Frenchie to reply.

Frenchie cheeks tinged pink as he smiled without saying a word. Hughie smiled as well, ignoring his own red hot face.   
  
  


5.

Hughie waited impatiently behind Frenchie, keeping an eye on the hallway for anyone showing up before they got in. He heard Frenchie sigh, making a comment about Hughie’s obnoxious tapping of his foot. Forcing himself to stop just as the door swung open.

Frenchie looked back at him with a smug look, keeping his head low so the hall cameras wouldn’t catch a good look at him, and stepped inside. The tall string bean followed him in, making sure his own face wasn’t visible. Shutting the door behind him, the click from the door latching was almost final.

“So, what exactly are we looking for?” Hughie asked, looking over the suite room.

“ _ Anything that looks useful _ ,” Butcher answered in his ear. Hughie winced at the slight crackle from the ear piece, glad he had got them an upgrade from the wire hooked into a black box in his back pocket. He didn’t think he would ever get used to it.

“That’s super descriptive,” Hughie muttered as he split off of Frenchie and started digging through drawers. Frenchie snickered at the comment as he looked through the cushions of the couches and chairs.

Quickly, but methodically the two went through the hotel room. Coming up with very little to nothing. “Oooo lala, a trash mag.”

Hughie looked up and raised his eyebrow, it had a barely covered woman on the front. Too much leather for Hughie, but each to your own. “What? Is that your favorite edition?” 

Frenchie snorted. “Not my preference for such magazines are much… softer. This is a harder version than I would get myself.” Despite himself, Hughie mentally noted that down, curious of just what Frenchie's preference for a trash mag. “What is your preference?”

As the question registered, Hughie’s face started to heat up. He spluttered at the curious look that Frenchie sent him. “ _ Would you two  _ focus _?! We have fucking shit to find! _ ”

Hughie rolled his eyes, shaking his head at Butcher’s comment. He pulled open a clothing drawer, looking under and between each of the clothes. There was a murmur of words from the front room. Hughie froze, his head jerking up and met Frenchie’s eyes. His fingers brushed against a paper.

Picking up, Hughie looked at the picture. The mark, Janice Markles, was kissing another woman. Hughie wished the first thought he had wasn’t  _ this would be good blackmail _ . He has spent too much time around the boys.

As he tucked the picture into the inside pocket of the jacket and quietly shut the drawer. Searching for Frenchie, Hughie could hear the hotel room opening. His chest tightening as fear set in. He stepped forward, just past the doorway of the closet, his wrist was grabbed.

Hughie stumbled into the closet, fear climbing up his throat as a hand covered his mouth. The closet door closed behind him with a sharp click. He jumped, his head whipping to the door and back to looking in front of him. The room was pitch black, the only light coming in through a tiny crack at the bottom of the closet door.

“Hughie, c’mon,” Frenchie hissed. The knowledge of who was in the closet with him eased him only a bit.

The hand on his wrist tugged him further into the dark. Hughie could barely think past trying to get air into his lungs. He could vaguely feel the tight grip on his wrist. His breath was coming out fast and shallow.

“ _ What the fuck is going on _ ?!” Butcher snapped in his ear, Butcher’s voice was too loud. Hughie flinched from the sound, his fingers fumbling at the comms.

“ _ Did she come back early? _ ” MM asked, not nearly as loud.

Hughie heard Frenchie say something, but it didn’t register. Sparks flickered in his vision, his knees felt like jelly beneath him. The hand on his wrist loosened, twisting around to lace their fingers together the back of Hughie’s hand to his palm, pressing both to Frenchie’s chest.

Frenchie’s fingers ran over Hughie’s ear, making him jump, and pulled out the comm. Hughie could’ve sworn he heard a click and the comm was returned, this time silent. If he could get his voice to work, he would’ve asked for a confirmation.

“Hey, follow my breathing,” Frenchie said, his voice was a lot closer than before. “You feel my heartbeat, yes?”

Hughie nodded, realizing only after that Frenchie couldn’t see him. Gulping, Hughie opened and closed his mouth multiple times, not a signal syllable escaping. Shakily he tapped his fingers on Frenchie’s chest in acknowledgement. 

Frenchie’s hand was on the back of his neck, his words fading in and out. Hughie knew his eyes were open even if he couldn’t see a thing. His forehead rested on Frenchie’s shoulder, the unheard but presumably soothing words Frenchie was going for reminded Hughie of Robin and her awkward trying to calm him down before he taught himself out to get out of a panic attack.

As breathing got a little easier, very little, Hughie felt Frenchie’s hand move from his neck to rubbing circles into his back. If he wasn’t claustrophobic, he would be back under control by now. Hughie squeezed his eyes shut, then quickly opened them again, fear twining around his chest again. Making himself focus on Frenchie’s steady, if not a little fast, heartbeat Hughie counted his breaths.

Hughie didn’t have any idea of how long they were there, how long before his breathing felt no longer restricted. By that time, he became startlingly aware of the lack of sound from the other room. All he really could hear was his and Frenchie’s breathing, along with a few words that Frenchie was murmuring.

“Did she leave yet?” Hughie asked, his voice barely coming out in a whisper.

Frenchie made an affirming noise, allowing Hughie to breath out in relief. Wasting no time, Hughie pulled back and headed to the door. The Frenchman was right behind, their hands still linked together. He cracked the door open, careful to check for anyone present before heading out.

The only reason Hughie didn’t jump over the bed was to keep from leaving any traces of them. Frenchie halted as Hughie opened the balcony doors. “What are you doing?”

“We have to get out of here,” Hughie said simply, pulling him through and shutting the doors behind him. “Do you really want to go the way we came in?”

When Frenchie didn’t respond, Hughie peered over the balcony. His memory was correct. The entrance to the hotel was under Janice’s balcony. As Hughie sat on the railing, swinging his legs over, Frenchie caught his arms.

“Are you sure about this?”

“I am certain. We jump onto the canopy and from the canopy onto the ground.” Hughie sent him a half-grin. “It’s like a scene from a spy movie, but it’s real.”

Frenchie raised his eyebrows at Hughie. “You want out of here that badly?”

“Yeah.” Hughie nodded.

“I am so sorry. I did not know you had claustrophobia. I would’ve never pulled you into there,” Frenchie said, his eyes full of regret. Hughie swallowed, the knot that refused to leave his chest even with being out in the open air twisted.

“I know. But we’re not in the closet anymore.” Hughie offered a grin at the wording, before sobering up and giving a serious look. “I just had quality time in a locker. I’ll be just fine. Really.” Clearly reluctant, Frenchie nodded. Hughie patted his shoulder. “I’ll go down first and be there to catch you.”

“Alright.”

That was all Hughie needed.

His arms swung around in the air as he fell three stories. Hitting the canopy, a curse spewing from his lips, Hughie caught onto the metal bar in the middle. With careful movements, he worked himself down and grabbed the side bar. Hughie swung down with practiced ease, dropping into a crouch.

He held himself from springing back up, stinging pain traveling through his feet and legs. Hughie pretended to tie his shoelaces, looking around for anyone noticing before slowly standing up. There was barely enough time for him to look before he stuck out his arms to catch Frenchie.

Who rolled off the side of the canopy, spitting out curse words in multiple languages the whole way. Hughie bent his knees as he caught Frenchie’s weight, still surprised he could carry the chemist’s weight so easily.

Frenchie stared up at him, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He patted Hughie’s arm with an odd look on his face, almost like appreciation. Hughie set the Frenchman down with care, keeping his arm around Frenchie’s waist. It wasn’t long, thankfully for the mission’s sake, before he could stand easily.

Personally, Hughie was disappointed they couldn’t stay like that longer. He was conscious of the doorman staring at them too much, as was Frenchie. Without a word, Frenchie grabbed his hand and started walking.

Hughie kept in stride with the shorter man without issue. Adrenaline still rushing through his veins, he felt almost lightheaded with it. Just as they turned the corner, nearly a block from the hotel entrance, he felt himself being pushed against the building.

Before a sound could leave him, a mouth pressed against his. Hughie gave Frenchie the control over the kiss, opening his mouth in invitation. Frenchie’s fingers slide into his hair, blunt nails scraping against his scalp sending a shiver through him. The Frenchman bit Hughie’s lip, making him sigh.

The knowledge of those kinks would’ve embarrassed Hughie had he not been busy getting his hands over Frenchie’s lower back. The rest of the world fading to the roar of his own heartbeat. His hand sliding up Frenchie’s back to his head, Hughie wasn’t letting Frenchie get any too far from him.

Just as Frenchie was turning the open mouthed kiss into a French one, there was a sound of a car horn. The sound made them jerk back from each other enough to look. A familiar black van with a rather peeved, but also smug Butcher in the passenger seat. Frenchie’s nails scratched against the back of his neck, sending a delicious shiver through him and a soft groan.

Reluctantly, Hughie pulled his hands off of Frenchie. He had to admit, he didn’t want to be picked up by the police for public indecency. Even if it was tempting.

“C’mon ya cunts, quit snogging and get in!” Butcher snapped at them. Smug, far too smug. What a bastard.

Frenchie seemed equally reluctant to pull away, yet he was still the faster one of the two to get back into sorts. He slid the back door of the van open and hopped in. Hughie followed the suit and crawled into the closest seat, closing the door behind him.

In the confines of his head, Hughie chastised himself for enjoying that so much. Not admitting even to himself that he wanted a repeat of that, multiple repeats. Maybe not the closet part, but after that.

  
  
+1. 

Frenchie shut the safehouse door behind. Wandering through the safehouse to the kitchen, he put away the few groceries he picked up on his way back from his meeting with Cherie. She was far from impressed with him getting burned. Or the little tidbit of nearly dying by Black Noir hand.

“ _ Let’s go steal ourselves a school. _ ” Frenchie raised his eyebrow as he walked around the island to stand behind Hughie. Kimiko was perched on the end of the couch watching whatever was on the TV. Four different people seemed to share a look before a scene cut.

“What are you watching?” Frenchie asked, leaning on the back of the couch behind the tall lamp post. Said lamp post sighed, lifting a mug to his lips. Frenchie got a whiff of rum as his eyes landed on the rum bottle, clear syrup, and lime juice. 

“Leverage,” Hughie finally answered, only after he kind of swirled the drink in his mug and killed it off. Hughie craned his head back to look up at Frenchie, his blue eyes felt like they were staring further into Frenchie than usual.

If that bottle was full to begin with, Hughie had more than just a couple drinks. “Are you drunk?”

“Tipsy,” Hughie corrected, sighing. He tipped forward and began to measure out the ingredients for a daiquiri. “I actually haven’t drank  _ that _ much, man.”

Frenchie wondered just how much he had drank.  _ How much did it take for Hughie to get drunk anyway? _ Pushing the thought back, Frenchie slid onto the couch next to Hughie.

“You like daiquiris?”

“Uh huh.” Hughie stirred his drink with a spoon and leaned back. Their shoulders were touching.

This was much tamer than pressing Hughie against a wall, yet Frenchie couldn’t figure out what it made him feel. It’s not like they haven’t been physically close. Not that they’ve actually had sex. Something that Frenchie would be interested in without a doubt.

Just the physical touch, that could easily be platonic form. Frenchie would’ve liked it more as not platonic. He would take it either way. 

Hughie let out a heavy sigh, his head was tipped back again staring up at the ceiling instead watching the show playing. There was a slight frown on his face.

“Qu'est qu'il y a??” Frenchie asked, focusing his attention onto the lean man.

“I caught ffeeeeellliinnngggsss,” Hughie said, his tone was sad.

“That is a bad thing?” Frenchie asked, ignoring the way his heart squeezed. Hughie was undoubtedly falling for Starlight. Frenchie could easily see why, she was nice, not a murderer, someone he could relate to who, someone he could talk to fairly openly.

“They don’t feel the same.” Hughie inhaled shakily, his blue eyes hiding beneath his eyelids.

Frenchie twisted his torso towards Hughie, something tight in his chest at the words. How could anyone not feel the same as him in such a way? Who was such an idiot to see such a good person, warm hearted, intelligent, funny, and incredible person standing in front of them? “How do you know this?”

The tech guy of the Spice Girls, as Butcher paralleled them to, just let out a hoarse, hollow laugh. “They have so many better options than me.”

“Bitch, who the fuck is better? There isn’t fucking anyone.” Frenchie pressed his lips together in a thin line, filled with the urge to shake some sense into Hughie.

Hughie rolled his head to the side, opening his eyes. Frenchie felt something flutter in his chest as the gorgeous blue eyes focused in on him.  _ He’s looking at  _ me _.  _ Me _. _ The thought made Frenchie feel breathless.

“Don’t fucking mess with me.” The hollow tiredness in Hughie’s voice hurt Frenchie.

“I am not messing.” Something came to life in Hughie’s eyes, if Frenchie didn’t know any better he would call it hope.

“Really?”

“Really.” Frenchie squeezed Hughie’s shoulder, then brushed his thumb along his collarbone.

“I guess you’d like to know who it is,” Hughie whispered, his eyes running over Frenchie’s face. Not quite looking him in the eye.

“It is not necessary.” Frenchie wasn’t sure how he would take hearing that Hughie fell for Starlight, despite everything going down and Butcher hanging over his head. 

Hughie bit his lip, the action drew Frenchie’s eyes up. The chemist forced his eyes back up to Hughie’s. He shouldn’t give that a thought. He offered to be Hughie’s fake boyfriend if he ever needed to. Not to encroach on Hughie’s feelings for another person. He would help Hughie with what he could, give dating advice or help him dress for a date. Not that he was a good one for dating advice.

Frenchie made sure to keep his eyes from wandering as Hughie seemed to wind himself up to speak. The Frenchman braced himself to hear Starlight’s name. “What if you stop being my fake boyfriend?” The words hurt more than Frenchie would ever admit. That was the closest he would ever get to actually dating Hughie. “And be my real real boyfriend instead?”

Frenchie stared at Hughie, hardly believing the words he just heard. “Can you say that again?”

Hughie looked away from him, pulling back. “I’m sorry--”

Frenchie stopped him with a finger to his lips, his pulse racing as he asked, “Did you just say you want  _ me _ to be your  _ boyfriend _ ?”

Hughie nodded, gulping as he stared back at Frenchie. A shaky near hysterical giggle slipped past Frenchie’s lips. He could hardly believe it.

There was tension running through Hughie’s body, fear clear in his eyes. “Oui. I would love that. Yes.”

Hughie’s eyes were wide as he gulped again. “Can I kiss you?”

Frenchie barely nodded before Hughie’s lips met his. The first kiss was a bit underwhelming, but it was understandable considering he kind of jumped that one on Hughie. All of the kisses after just got better every time. Kissing Hughie just got better every time. They were never the same. Unlike any of the other kisses, this was soft and slow.

Running his fingers through Hughie’s soft, fluffy hair, Frenchie pressed closer. It was perfect. 

So much more than he’d ever thought he might get.

  
  
  
  



End file.
